Chapter 3 Emilia
EMILIA
“What are we in the mood for tonight? Red? White?”
I was on the phone with my bestie Nora as I prowled the liquor store. I felt like I needed to fill a shopping cart after the day I’d just endured.
“You tell me,” Nora chuckled. “You’re the one who sounded the WNN alarm.”
Wine Night Needed. Yeah, I’d texted those three letters to her to let her know that I was going through it, and the only way to get past my shit day was a couple of glasses of something and a good gossip session.
“How about one of each,” I said as I tucked a chardonnay and a pinot under each arm, then two more for good measure. “And, prosecco!”
“Damn, my girl is stocking up,” she laughed. “I can’t wait for the full download, but can you at least give me the highlights now?”
“Of course,” I replied as I juggled the bottles. “In a nutshell, my first client was an hour late, which meant that the rest of them had to be rearranged because of her, which was made exponentially more difficult because I’d gotten tripped by a trio of doxies in the Ashford Luxe lobby.”
I huffed out a breath and continued, “Then I fell and landed flat on my back, dropped my phone, and then accidentally had it swapped out with the phone belonging to the world’s biggest asshole.
So then I had to meet up with him to trade them back, further screwing up my day.
And Brittany is being beyond high maintenance. ” I sighed. “So yeah, I’m cooked now.”
“What’s with the ahole? What did he do?”
“Ugh,” I made a face. “He works at the resort and he looked like he wanted to strangle the poor dogs that accidentally tripped us, along with their owner—Mrs. Barclay, Amanda’s grandmother. I had to intervene and plead her case.”
“Ha,” Nora answered. “I was going to say something about you out for the literal underdog, but that word doesn’t really apply to the Mrs. Barclay, does it?”
“Not even a little,” I agreed. “Though she is a big softie when it comes to her dogs.”
“I’ll meet you at your place and get the rest of the story. Shrimp pad Thai, as usual?”
“Yes, please. And if you get a chance, some Ben and Jerry’s would be amazing.”
“Done. See you in a bit.”
We disconnected the call and I went back to shopping. Perhaps I needed a half dozen bottles?
I was so focused on the pretty labels — my criteria for deciding if the wine inside was any good — that I didn’t notice the person walking behind me until I backed up and we collided, nearly making me drop my bounty.
“Excuse me,” I complained. “Could you watch—”
I froze when I saw who’d just bumped into me, for the second time today.
The Puppy Hater himself.
“And here I thought my day couldn’t get any worse,” he sighed. “You again.”
How was it possible that someone with a perma-scowl could also be so freaking hot? He was tall enough that people probably constantly asked him if he played basketball, but that face of his was one hundred percent model.
The cheekbones, the jawline … I’d forced myself to ignore his looks when he was freaking out about the dogs, but now in my weakened state at the end of a long day, I couldn’t ignore them. Especially those freaking dimples beside his mouth.
I’d only gotten a quick glimpse of them because the man didn’t seem capable of really smiling, but damn it, they completely shifted his perfect face into something more, I don’t know, more endearing?
Still. He was a dick.
“You could at least apologize. You ran into me.”
“You backed up and we collided,” he replied. “It was mutual.”
“Can’t even muster up a halfhearted ‘sorry’,” I said with a nod. “That tracks.”
“Please,” he glowered. “You know nothing about me.”
“Exactly,” I fired back at him. “And I intend to keep it that way. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to drown my sorrows. Rough day.”
“Yeah,” he exhaled hard. “I feel that.”
The way he raised an eyebrow suggested that I was to blame for everything that had exploded between us.
“What the hell do you mean by—"
“Hey, hey, what’s going on here?”
I turned to find Ethan Mercer walking towards us, a welcomed sight given the grump I was currently dealing with.
“Emilia? Well, hi, what a nice surprise!” Ethan said. “You two have met, I see.”
It made sense that Mr. Cruella Deville knew Ethan seeing as they both worked at the resort. Ethan was the GM, and I’d done a couple of weddings with him as my main point of contact. I liked him. He knew his stuff, and he was always fair.
I felt my mouth twist into a frown. “I only know this guy by reputation.”
Ethan laughed. “Ah, poor you. Trust me, there’s more to Drew than his good looks.”
Mr. Grump—excuse me, Mr. Drew Grump—turned to scowl at his colleague.
“You know this person?”
Drew pointed at me like I was a plague victim.
“Yeah, she’s an amazing wedding planner. Andrew Ashford, allow me to officially introduce you to Emilia Marino.”
I was happy that I was loaded down with bottles because there was no way I wanted to shake his hand.
Then it hit me. Andrew Ashford. CEO of Ashford Resorts.
Right, so…yeah. He didn’t work at the resort. He was the resort.
Awkward.
Especially since I’d heard that he was handling events at Ashford Luxe for the time being.
Maybe I’d steer my clients toward other venues for the next stretch.
It was Carmel—it wasn’t like we were hurting for choices.
And bridezillas were tricky enough to manage without throwing another asshole in the mix.
But yeah, finding out that he was the head honcho put our earlier encounter into perspective. No wonder he acted like he owned the place. He…kinda does.
Knowing that he was the bossman didn’t make me like him any better, though.
Money didn’t impress me, kindness did, and the man was definitely lacking it.
But the fact that he was friends with Ethan didn’t compute.
What could a curmudgeon and a good guy have in common, aside from working in the same place?
“What happened with the cat food bride?” Drew asked.
Ethan choked out a surprised laugh. “Huh?”
“Handled,” I replied in a snooty voice. “With grace and care. You could learn a thing or two about client relations from me.”
“Uh oh,” Ethan said softly.
“How are the Three Musketeers?” I asked. “Have you thrown poor Mrs. Barclay out on the street yet?”
“I’m lost,” Ethan said, glancing between us as we glared at each other.
Drew’s jaw tensed. “I actually took your advice. From now on they’ll have twice daily walks while they stay with us courtesy of a local dog daycare.”
It was the last thing I expected, but of course, he didn’t bother to thank me for the good idea.
“Do you need help to your car?” Drew asked, nodding towards the bottles clutched in my arms. “You’ve got quite an armful there. Looks like you’re planning for a party. Or do we need to worry about you?”
I felt my cheeks go hot at the implication.
“Isn’t it funny how an encounter—or worse, two encounters—with a class-A jerk can make you need to anesthetize yourself with a couple glasses of wine at the end of it?” I asked.
“Because I had that happen to me today. Super frustrating, so I’m heading home to try to wipe my memory banks clean.
I’m surprised to see you in the wine aisle, though.
I’d have pictured you as more of a ‘single malt scotch while petting a hairless cat’ type.
But no, you probably hate cats too, don’t you? ”
Ethan was still watching us wearing a bemused smile, swiveling his head back and forth like he was at a tennis match.
Drew frowned. “I don’t hate cats,” he grumbled. “And I don’t hate dogs, either!”
“Just tiny, adorable puppies?” I suggested. “Yes, that’s so much better.”
“Listen here,” he fumed, looking like he was building up to a full rant—and like he actually expected me to stick around and listen to it. Fat chance of that. I saved my patience for the people who were paying me.
“I’m gonna go home now and share this wine with my best friend while spending time with my pet, the way emotionally healthy people do,” I announced. “You do you, though.” I turned to Ethan and gave him a genuine smile. “Nice to see you again. Hope we have a chance to work together soon.”
“Same. I’ll make sure to protect you from this one,” he chuckled.
“Hey, don’t worry about me, watch out for the animals of Carmel. They’re the ones who need protection,” I said as I walked away, praying that I wouldn’t drop one of the bottles and ruin my perfect exit.
I felt like I sped the entire drive back to the house. It was currently a mess of never-ending renovations, but it was still my favorite place to be. Nora’s car was already in the driveway when I pulled in.
The door swung open like she’d been watching for my arrival. She had a key and she wasn’t afraid to use it.
“Damn, girl, did you buy out the whole place?” Nora laughed as I walked in, taking care to step over the boxes of hardwood taking up space in the front hall.
I put down the bags to give her a hug. “Hair looks great, as usual. I hate you.”
Nora had a mane that drew stares, a bright blonde curtain that looked like she had a blowout every day.
She laughed. “You want straight, I want curly. It always happens that way.”
“Where did you set everything up?”
She smirked. “Not in the disaster zone, that’s for sure. We’re out back.”
Nora gestured around the upheaval that would some day turn the rundown Craftsman house into a cozy, beautiful, updated home. For now it was a work in progress, with lighting hanging down on wires and exposed support beams.